A Matter of Faith
by Solvdrage
Summary: Faith saved Nikephoros Komnenos from the predations of Chaos. His faith saved his very world. His reward? A lifetime of servitude to the Golden Throne of Terra. His faith was strong, but he was merely one more sacrifice in humanity's most desperate aeon. It is the 41st Millennium and there is only war. Sequel to "A Whim"


"Rejoice, Nikephoros Komnenos," the harsh voice hissed from the shadows. "Your faith has been rewarded."

The boy strained against the chains and coughed. The coughing fit had been an attempt to ask 'What?'. Instead, he had grown weak over his four days in the custody of the Inquisition. The holy agents of the God-Emperor had found him in the ruins of his family's farm. Nikephoros had barely survived the departure of the foul Daemon Prince that had led the Daemonic Incursion of Adrianpolis. The Inquisition had been...curious as to why the Daemon Prince T'aal'bu'hgan had abandoned his debauched assault of the quaint Imperial world after his encounter with the small unremarkable child.

"T-the Emperor Protects," the nine-year old child rasped. The Inquisition had graciously provided the exact amount of nutrient-infused water to keep him alive during their purity checks. Nikephoros' childish mind could not comprehend the tortures the Inquisition had inflicted upon him. Komnenos was raised to adhere slavishly to the teachings of the Ecclesiarchy. Ignorance was a virtue and hate for the enemies of man was a gift from the God-Emperor himself.

"For he loves and shepherds all Mankind," the harsh voice intoned. Young Komnenos finally saw the face of his interrogator. He was an ancient man with a face as harsh as his voice. The entire left side of the Inquisitor's face was a complex pattern of scars and Augmentics. The Inquisitor was wearing an ornate set of Carapace armor. Nikephoros found his gaze returning to the crackling power fist the Inquisitor wore. "You have been judged as worthy in the Eyes of the God-Emperor. The Inquisition has, in its mercy, given you the chance for penance."

"W-what...about my mother and sister?" Nikephoros asked fearfully.

"Ah, your mother Theresa and sister Hestia, their exposure to the Great Enemy was minimal. The Ecclesiarchy cleared them two days ago. The Adeptus Terra reassigned your mother and sister to the factory world of Batiatus IV where they will find new purpose producing the munitions that the all-conquering armies of our Most Beneficent God-Emperor require."

The boy breathed a prayer of thanks to the God-Emperor. Nikephoros tensed slightly as the Inquisitor removed the rune-inscribed shackles from his small wrists. "When will I go to my new house?"

The Inquisitor's laugh was dry and humorless. "Oh child, you hold dearly to the last scraps of your lost innocence. You will not go with your family to Batiatus IV. You, instead, have the honor of attending the Schola Progenium on Chūjitsuna. Your life is no longer your own. It belongs wholly to the service of the God-Emperor now."

"Can I say good-bye to my sister?" Nikephoros asked.

"No," the Inquisitor said without hesitation or pity. "The Fleet has already deployed. To answer your next question, you are aboard a vessel of the Inquisition. I will answer no further question. A pair of my acolytes will be by to see to your recovery."

The unnamed Inquisitor exited the room. Nikephoros, for the first time, wept as the enormity of his situation overwhelmed him. He wasn't sure how long he was alone. The next sensation he recalled was a kind-looking woman and an older man entering the cell.

"Hello Nikephoros," the woman said gently. "You are very brave, but I can tell you are having nightmares."

Nikephoros nodded. "I...I can't sleep. I wont' sleep."

"Well, I have a special way to help you sleep. I can help you if you let me," the woman said.

"O-okay," Nikephoros said as he placed his childish faith in the Inquisitor's associates. The woman put her hands on the side of his head and sent a pulse of psychic energy into his mind.

"It is done," the woman said sadly. "The memory-locks are in place."

"I hope Lord Quintus knows what he is doing. It would have been kinder for a complete mindwipe," the man growled.

"Ranoldo, Lord Quintus believes the God-Emperor's Hand guides this child's fate."

Ranoldo scoffed. "I have great respect for Lord Quintus, but his Thorian leanings are dangerous."

"Perhaps, but this child accomplished a great task. I saw his bravery when I touched his mind," the psyker said soothingly.

"This boy is brave, but there are many brave souls in the Imperium, Miranda" Ranoldo scoffed.

"Oh, Ran...you are such a cynic," Miranda laughed as she picked Nikephoros up. The psyker placed the child gently on a cot.

"Yet you still love me," Ranoldo laughed.

"We psykers are _notoriously_ unstable," Miranda teased. Ranoldo rolled his eyes as he followed Miranda out of the room. The two Inquisitorial agents were unaware the Nikephoros was not truly unconscious. He would never truly remember what was done to him, but he knew something had been taken from him. The last thing his mind registered was the hissing of the door as it closed.

And of a terrible voice declaring it would return...on a whim.

* * *

Nikephoros awoke in a panic when he heard the exceedingly loud chime. He exploded from the cot. On instinct, he flipped the flimsy table over and hid behind it.

"Quite impressive. It seems you have an instinctive grasp for war. The Schola Progenium will have use for you after all," Lord Inquisitor Quintus observed coldly. "Follow, your new life awaits."

Nikephoros heard the order and obeyed. He exited the small holding cell and entered an eternity of War.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, the God-Emperor demanded a sequel to A Whim and who am I to say no to The Empra? This will be a multi-chapter side project for me. How much attention this fic receives will play a huge role in update speed. Now, the question for the ages, what should the Schola Progenium mold Nikephoros into? Please let me know in a review.

Why yes, I am a complete review whore.


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